Peach

PAT I have a confession—when I was a kid, I would jump my grandmother’s neighbor’s fence and pluck peaches from Mr. Johnson’s trees. I figured that there were so many of those little darlings hanging from Mr. Johnson’s trees he surely wouldn’t miss a few. Looking back on it, you could say those peaches helped me develop an appreciation for the simple pleasures life has to offer. Over the years, we’ve grown fond of grilling sweet fruit. (Yes, we do “grill everything.”) When you add the smoky flavor from the grill to the sweetness of the apricots and peaches, well, you are talking about a different kind of dessert from the shortcake you’re used to. Ours also calls for biscuits (talk about a Neely spin on things!). And the turbinado sugar is just a fancy name for sugar in the raw . . . like me!

The peach nectar, lemonade, and sparkling wine—ooh, it just makes me tingle all over! And believe me, this is a night when you are going to need all the tingling you can get.

There are fruit people, and there are chocolate people. Even chocolate people will lick their plates clean when presented with a refreshing, lemony panna cotta strewn with wine-steeped peaches. Panna cotta makes a nice spring and summertime dessert because it’s not so rich that you leave the table feeling stuffed, and the lemon verbena adds a welcome, herbaceous tang. This dish is perfect for company because the panna cotta must be made ahead, and the peaches “cook” while coming to room temperature.

Throughout the South, but especially along rural strips of highway, you’ll find a plethora of roadside farm stands advertising their homegrown wares with colorful, hand-painted wooden signs. I love these quirky little catchall stands, where you’re almost as likely to encounter folk art or a mini petting zoo as you are watermelons and eggs. If you’re lucky, you can also find some of the best peach ice cream you’ll ever eat—creamy, cold, and ultrafresh. I like to think my version, which makes the most of sweet, sun-ripened fruit, is just as tasty.

This is my mom’s recipe for what she calls a “dump cobbler,” where all you do is mix the batter, dump the fruit on top, and pop it in the oven. It’s soft and moist—almost like a pudding—with big peach flavor. Try different summer fruits, like cherries, blueberries, blackberries, or plums, in place of the peaches. Serve with Farm-Stand Peach Ice Cream (page 363) or lightly sweetened whipped cream.

Salted watermelon, cornbread, and molasses. You don’t have to look far to see how much Southerners like to mix their sweet with their salty. This summery salad, featuring Balsamic-glazed grilled peaches and shaved country ham tossed with fresh herbs and creamy goat cheese, is an elegant tribute to this unendingly popular flavor combination. For real Southern flavor, use sticky-sweet Georgia peaches.

This dessert is more interesting when prepared with a variety of stone fruits, but if you can’t find one particular type, substitute more of another. You could also use apricots in place of any of the other three fruits.

You may not have thought of cooking peaches before, but they are delicious hot off the grill and topped with dollops of sweetened sour cream and crumbled cookies.

This summer salad has it all—crunchy, peppery greens; soft, smooth cheese; and sweet, smoky, slightly caramelized peaches hot off the grill.

We can’t write a cookbook without including something with a crumble topping; they’re just too good. That’s why we came up with this vegan version of crumble, which wasn’t even really that hard (all we had to do was change the butter to margarine—so if you want to make a dairy version, switch back to butter). Serve a nice warm slice with a scoop of ice cream (vegan if you like) and you’ll be in heaven!

Ray Charles must have been in my head when I designed this dish, because it’s all about Georgia. The green tomato–peach relish is a natural, and not only because both ingredients are beloved by Georgians. The tartness of the green tomatoes is evenly matched by the honey sweetness of the peaches, and the resulting relish is fresh, incredibly flavorful, and totally balanced. Pork tenderloin is lean, has very little fat, and cooks quickly, so your kitchen stays cool while you eat well. This really is a wonderful summer dish.

A great do-ahead dessert for a large crowd. Although I make it most often with fresh peaches, the recipe works with just about any fruit-nut combo you can dream up, including fresh berries and hazelnuts, fresh pears and almonds, bananas and pecans, or even craisins or raisins and pecans.

I met chef Kevin Stewart and his partner, Richard Cordray, at my friend Loncito Cartwright’s South Texas ranch. Kevin prepared this dish using Loncito’s grass-fed lamb and I asked for the recipe, named after Kevin and Richard’s former Marfa restaurant, Blue Javalina. Wild packs of javalinas—compact, coarse-haired, piglike animals with short snouts—roam the high plains of West Texas. Javalinas do not come in blue, nor do they make for great eating. Loncito’s lamb is a different story. His grass-fed lamb has a mild taste that appeals to even the most reluctant lamb eater. It is available at select farmers’ markets and specialty foods stores throughout Texas.

Here’s an all-around bar that goes anywhere with ease. I’ve taken it to school dinners, church suppers, and outdoor picnics. The almond paste adds a distinctive dimension that gives the bars a touch of exotic appeal. Canned almond paste can be purchased at most grocery stores. Make sure you buy almond paste, not its similar cousin, marzipan. Food authorities do not always agree on the exact difference between the two, but generally speaking almond paste contains a higher ratio of ground almonds to sugar than marzipan.

I stumbled across this idea when I was making one of my regular summertime batches of hibiscus tea, while also wishing that the peaches in a paper bag on my countertop would hurry up and ripen already. I peeled a peach, let it steep in the hot tea for a while, and there you have it. Not only did the peach soften, but it also took on the loveliest color from the hibiscus, not to mention that addictive flowery tang. I later gilded the lily by boiling down a little more of the tea to make a glaze. The best part: I still had my tea, which I later cut with sparkling water and spiked with tequila.

They say we use only 10 percent of our brains. That assessment is immensely appealing. We are all potential supergeniuses with telekinetic and mind-reading powers, and could easily enjoy Heidegger or Joyce for light reading over coffee and donuts in the morning . . . if we only tried. But there is an easier way to experience the unbridled horsepower of our full consciousness: try roasted peaches in bourbon syrup with smoked salt. Your first bite will expand the boundaries of sensation separating your mouth from the rest of your body, and you’ll be feeling spiciness in the warmth of your hands and smokiness in the tingling of your toes. And by the third bite your mind will have moved on to peel the black backing off the edge of the universe, filling the unending space beyond with your pounding heart.

This cobbler is sooo good and sooo easy. It’s unbeatable topped with vanilla ice cream. You can substitute peaches or pineapple tidbits for the pears.

Serve this as a starter: It’s nice to have on the table as a beginning for a brunch. You might also serve it as a summery dessert.